


Choked Up

by emma_and_orlando



Series: Joger Week [4]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Attempt at marriage proposal, John gets emotional, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nervous John, Sick Roger, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 06:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando
Summary: It was their tenth anniversary. It should have been the perfect moment to propose.





	Choked Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the softer, maybe less ‘crafty’ fics I made in the weeks, but I like it. Because I like soft hihhi

Roger has never liked fancy restaurants.

Not back when they were poor University students, or now that they are millionaire rockstars.

"John, you know this isn't for me."

"But it's our anniversary, Rog..."

"It's my anniversary too." Rogers whines had died down in his throat at the sight of Johns persistent pouts.

And maybe it took a blowjob as well. 

Now that John has managed to convince him to come to their favorite restaurant, The Mulberry. (Or the restaurant Roger hates the least) John had made a reservation three weeks in advance, to give the staff time to prepare for their arrival. 

Along the reservation, John had given detailed instructions to the staff, alongside a rewarding payment for the trouble.

"Are you sure that's how you want it?"

"Yes, he loves the chocolate fudge cake. With caramel, and vanilla ice cream."

"We can put it back on the menu for you, Mr Deacon. But it is unusual to put the ring-"

John had shook his head with a sigh. "I really prefer it that way."

"It could be a chocking hazard." The chef desperately tries to explain, with wide hand gestures. 

"It won't be. I promise." 

It was going to be a great day. Because he was going to ask Roger to marry him 

For the occasion, John has gotten himself a new suit tailored and steamed it.

He went to the hairdresser for a new haircut that fits more into the new decade, big and fluffy- which made Roger giggle. 

The evening before, he let Freddie and Brian know that there will be no band rehearsals the day after the proposal. He and Roger will most likely want to sleep in. Freddie in return had given him some words of encouragement that made Johns cheeks flush with embarrassment as much as excitement. 

"-And if he says no, you give him a good shag and remind him why he should marry you." 

"Yeah. Thanks Fred." John deadpanned.

"Why would Roger want to have sex if he's refused the proposal?"

Freddie glared at Brian over the mix table. "Nobody asked you, Brian!" 

Needless to say, after hours and hours of preparations and reservations, John has never been better prepared for anything in his life. 

He woke up on the morning of their tenth anniversary, giddy with excitement for their lunch and their proposal. They'd had sex the night before. 

They were both naked and their muscles were aching perfectly when he leaned over to kiss Roger awake as well.

Only to find him radiating an abnormal amount of heat. And his forehead is covered in a thin layer of sweat. 

Oh no...

It takes a bit more than a persistent nudge to get Rogers eyes to flutter open.

"Roger?" Johns heart sinks. "How are you feeling?"

Roger is faint with fever and when he peers up at John, his eyes are glazed over and his mind is far from clear or truly awake.

"Need to get dressed." He mumbles in a croaked voice.

John isn't sure what's more heartbreaking, the sight of his boyfriends pale body curling in on itself in misery or the fact that there is no way they can make it to their reservation for lunch, where he is supposed to propose to him. 

For the sake of being a good boyfriend, John shuffles closer to Rogers hot shivering body and wraps him in a tight hug.

Roger relaxes into the embrace with a tired moan. His eyelashes flutter against Johns neck.

"No Rog, it's okay." He lowers his voice to keep himself from sounding as disappointed as he feels. "You're not fit to get up right now."

"But you've been fussing 'bout this for weeks."

John helps Roger hook one leg over his waist, while he plays with the shorter strands of hair at the back of Rogers nape. It's damp with sweat, but it doesn't stop John. Rubbing his nose affectionately against the heat of Rogers forehead.

"I know." John sighs. He doesn't need a reminder. "I'll call the restaurant, they'll delivering the food to our place."

"I'm not sure if I can eat, Deacky."

John has gone through too much preparation for all of it to fail. It's only their tenth anniversary once.

"I got them to put the soft fudge caramel cake you like so much back on the menu. It melts on your tongue, I'm sure you can manage a few bites." John prompts as gently as he can. He hopes the stress in his voice doesn't set Roger off. 

Hot breaths graze Johns Adam's apple. "Okay." 

John grabs the phone from the bedside table, careful not to dangle the long cord against Rogers face. Because he's fallen dead asleep again within the minute. Snoring loudly into Johns chest, now that they have shifted positions with John laying on his back and Roger splayed out on top of him. 

Even though his boyfriend is obviously asleep, John skillfully doesn't mention the proposal during his call, but refers to it as his 'special instructions.'

The restaurants staff seemed sympathetic enough. They usually don't have a delivery system, but John had invested too much money into the lunch for them to drop him as a client.

When the phone call has ended, John puts the phone back onto the holder and tries to nudge Roger awake once more.

"Rog, baby?"

More snoring, and a muffled cough in between. "Mm."

John smiles down at him adoringly, watching as Rogers chest falls and rises in rhythm with Johns. And his hands are carefully curled up into Johns loose pajama shirt.

"They're coming to deliver our food soon."

When Roger doesn't formally react, John decides to gently roll the feverish man back to his own side of the bed. 

With a weak protesting moan, Roger snuggles his face into his own pillow. Missing the heat from Johns body only for a moment, before he's once again fast asleep. 

John leans in to kiss his brow. Grimly noting how badly the skin is burning, before getting to up.

If they are not leaving the house, he needs to set up the bedroom into a date atmosphere. Which means he dims the lights, turns off the television, grabs a couple of horrible chocolate scented candles, opens the curtains, puts on the radio, wipes the fever sweat away from Rogers shirt and John takes a shower to make himself at least look decent for their anniversary/proposal. 

With one look around the room, and the sleepy bundle of boyfriend on the bed, John knows he has done as much as he possibly can.

When the food arrives thirty minutes later, he wakes Roger up from his nap. 

It takes some shifting and prodding, but eventually he gets Roger to sit upright, leaning against his shoulder. Every few minutes he begins to nod off, spoon in his hand and filled with food, as his eyes droop closed and he desperately tries to clamp onto consciousness. 

It would have been adorable if it wasn't so crucial for the two of them to be in the moment together.

John has the blankets bunched up at the foot of the bed so they can't get dirty. The cold has Roger shivering, but slightly more alert.

Their food is presented on a long tray over their laps. 

John anxiously watches Roger force himself another mouthful of truffle pasta into his mouth. Looking miserable, but determined. 

"Don't overeat, you need room for dessert."

Roger blinks up at him with a dazed smile. "Kay Deacky."

John scrambles to grab the slice of cake in a container that says 'R' and puts it on Rogers tray with a fork. 

"Here, the fudge and caramel cake."

Roger obediently begins to eat. He isn't sure why John is so anal about this lunch, but he doesn't think it'll do their relationship any good if he starts to question his boyfriend now.

So, Roger settles in warmly and eats his food. His head rests on Johns strong bicep. And his legs are drawn up to his chest protectively.

For a moment he thinks his pounding head is blessed with a mellow moment of silence, besides the awful radio playing in the background.

But he is wrong.

"There's a lot I want to say." 

John snorts, laughing at his own ridiculousness. "I had it all planned out, you know? It was gonna be around all these rich bimbos you hate, but we would make a scene and ruin their business lunch. The food would be delicious and you would want another round and another, but I'd ask you to please have a piece of cake. They would turn on our song."

"Hm?" 

"Have you ever been... From Hendrix."

"That is our song." Roger agrees with a soft smile. "I like that song."

"Me too, me too. And we have been together for ten years. That's- forever."

"Mhm."

"And there hasn't been a moment I wanted it to end. Maybe I wanted to end some of the arguments, or the volume of the television, or the money spend on expensive coats, but never the end of us."

Roger nods, taking a big bite out of his cake. 

"So, Rog." John shifts away enough to look Roger in the eye. (Who's got his cheeks puffed out with fudge cake) "I know you are a bit sick, this food is cold. It should have been warm. There should have been normal not nauseating candles, the song should be playing, cameras to film it. But perhaps this is more authentic, more us, if-"

Roger coughs loudly and interrupts him. 

With wide eyes he croaks out shoulder shaking- wheezing coughs.

John waits patiently for him to stop so he can finish his speech. Watching his boyfriend struggle to steady himself for a moment.

But Roger doesn't seem to stop. He pushes the tray of food away, when covering his face doesn't seem to help. 

Instead he leans forward and coughs over the edge of the bed. His arms wrapped around his chest in slowly rising panic. When he realizes this isn't simply a cough, but he is choking.

He desperately tries to communicate this with John- but that's close to impossible when all the sounds he can make are either wheezes or coughs. 

"Baby, need a glass of water?"

Roger is shaking violently and unable to reply, bending forward as he tries to choke out what _seems_ like a piece of metal stuck in the back of his throat.

It only takes a few moments for his face to turn from red to slightly purple with the lack of oxygen. John stops waiting for a coherent response and instead forcefully pats Rogers back. 

The poor sick man continues to gag and splutter, but it doesn't take long for his throat to reject the intrusion- not while John is forcibly slapping between his shoulder blades, and whatever was stuck in the back of his wind-pipe comes rolling out of his throat.

"Oh my God." Roger gasps, heaving for air now that he is freed.

He bends forward with tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Wheezing some more. 

The next thing he expects is for John to wrap his arms around him. Hold him close and ask him if he's okay, because he damn nearly died.

Instead of any of those, the horrified bassist jumps out of bed and scrambles to the floor.

Roger watches him search their beige carpet with bleary eyes. "What was in there?" He coughs in the aftermath, throat raw and sore. Not even questioning John anymore. 

There's a pause.

Johns hands wraps around something on the floor. He picks it up with a red face.

"Your engagement ring..." 

Between the clumps of wet chewed fudge chocolate cake, John holds up the ring to Roger. Only now the blond (still coughing) notices that John is on one knee. 

"Roger, will you marry me?"

"Y-yes?" Voice hoarse. "But please ask me again in the morning, I'm not feeling to well."

John leans forward to take Rogers temperature, and yes. He's much warmer than before. 

Just as John is about to get to his feet, Roger loses his last boost of energy and falls forward into Johns arms. Who is unprepared and topples backwards onto the floor.

~~~

It takes a while to re-arrange Roger back onto the mattress, but when his head hits the pillow he is fast asleep. 

John kisses his temple in the softest of all kisses. Sweeping away a strand of blond hair.

A giddy smile doesn't disappear from his face for the rest of the day. 

He finds out that the ring had rolled under the best, he cleans it in the kitchen, careful not to drop it in the sink and slips it around Rogers finger while he dozes. 

In the morning he'll explain what happened.

For now though, he climbs back into bed with Roger. It's barely late afternoon, but he yearns for the closeness. He wraps himself around Rogers heat radiating back. 

It's familiar and far too hot, but John doesn't mind the sacrifice. 

His nose brushes against the sweaty nape of Rogers neck. Without an inch of regret, John finds Rogers hand resting on the pillow and clutches it between his own. Feeling the hot golden band against his skin.

"I love you." John whispers. 

He gets a hoarse cough in response, which- fair enough, he deserves.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it, leave a comment please?? I love u if u do


End file.
